My heart and soul alike;
What would it be,
If it happens, to see
Falling in love?
I’m waiting.
She whispered the last line,
Only for the wind to hear;
The clay in hand came alive
Finer than her last try.
Shouldn’t you fall in love?
Here, I’m waiting.
(Untitled)
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar